All I Ever Wanted
by SuperWhoFallerLocked
Summary: Supernatural Fanfiction, Sam, Dean, Castiel, Lucifer, Gabriel, Chuck, Crowley, Micheal
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Bête Noire**

Noise filled my head and I screamed in hopes that it will drown out the voices. People were yelling, begging to be set free. What they wanted to be liberated from is something I have yet to know. Nonetheless, I am terrified. I turn to my coffee table and slowly walk over to it. I began contemplating on if I should bash my head through it, forcing my head through the glass table and watch as all of glass splatters onto the floor all while blood is gushing out of my head and spilling into a puddle before me. But would that had stopped the screams of agony? Or would I had been haunted by them? Forever trapped in a place that I too would be forced to cry for mercy.

The screams start to merge into one, and then stop. A deep, charming, and quite frankly lovely voice had replaced the hellish voices.

"Behind you!" They exclaimed.

I would have been frightened but the owner of the voice was so relaxing. I almost melted into each word they said. But, as the voice implied they were right behind me. I turned and was met by a man. His golden blonde hair almost lit up my dark room. His features were cascaded by the darkness until his eyes shown a powerful red. I jumped back because there was something about how his eyes glowed that unsettled me. I know of demons who's eyes become flooded with black ink and apparently angels glow a sea blue, but this man's eyes were something else, a bit more sinister honestly.

"Who are you?" were the only words I could muster.

"Morningstar to few, Lucifer to many, Satan to a whole lot more," Lucifer answered.

"Satan? Fucking Satan?" I said, almost screaming at the ridiculousness of it.

"I prefer Lucifer. But yes, I am essentially Satan, Father of lies, whatever you wanna think of me. And you're Lada."

"Yeah. What do you want with me?"

"Oh Lada. You can't be that stupid. Miss Prophet here cannot come up with a single reason why I wouldn't seek her out?"

"Prophet?" I stammered. I mean talking to the big guy upstairs? Not something I do often.

"You must be that stupid then. My mistake," he scoffed. The eye roll that escaped Satan was infuriating. "You know, Lada, those voices you hear are angels. Usually... Those screams you hear I'm not so sure about. Though I wish it was my doing."

"You know nothing of me" I spat. I wanted to walk away except I felt glued to where I was standing. As I tried to fig-it I realized that I was stuck in place. I attempted multiple times to at least move my fingers, yet no luck. From across the room you could hear Lucifer laughing at the situation.

"How's it going over there?"

I said nothing. My face curled into the most unpleasant grimace as I continued my futile attempts at escaping. To see his satisfaction of my current state sickened me. He thought this was all a game, a game in which he was the player moving all of his chess pieces to where he saw fit. He wouldn't care who was hurt in the process, the amount of pawns that would inevitably be taken, but as long as his king was safe, all men could go.

"You know... If you swear your undying allegiance to me I could un-paralyze you."

I was pulled from my thoughts and placed back into the real world. I saw Lucifer grinning at his little comment. The inflection of his voice clearly showed his confidence. He thought that he had won my support.

I laughed in his face. "Undying allegiance? How cute…"

"You will serve me," he growled. His entire personality had changed. What had been a light, 'fun' atmosphere was quickly morphed.

I finally felt the tension in the room and I realized who I was actually dealing with. This was no low-grade demon, this was the head honcho himself. Beads of sweat formed at my forehead. Despite me wanting to keep a calm facade it was increasingly harder to.

"Whatever you want I won't help you," I murmured. I quickly shifted my eyes to the side, unable to make eye-contact with Lucifer.

Honestly, I did not want to upset Lucifer anymore than I already did. He held my life in the palm of his hand, ready to crush it at any moment he so desired. And I hated that he had such power over me while I could do nothing. I was expendable, I held no place compared to him and that mortified me. Everyone learns that Satan is this big bad guy, but that he could do nothing to you so long as you didn't fall into his temptations. Satan really wasn't that strong; yes, he could entice you with such wonderful sounding words, but if you kept yourself on this path of light, you were protected. Yet, here he is, in the same room as me, wanting me to stray from said path. And even if I said yes, I agreed to help him in whatever devious plans he had, what would happen to me?

Lucifer put his head down into his hands and shook it upon hearing my words. Once he let go of his head, his eyes again glowed red, which made my heart skip a beat. He began strolling up to me. He took his time, relishing each second it took, all the while seeing me flounder in place. The confidence he let out with each step was awe-inspiring; he had me right where he wanted. Finally, he stopped in front of me and glared down. He let out a sneer and raised his arm. I watched as his hand tightened into a fist and the pain that followed was indescribable.

I writhed in place for a few seconds. Screams similar to those in my head escaped me; I was begging, pleading for him to stop. But he didn't; he forced me to continue suffering. Suddenly, though, I was no longer paralyzed. I immediately dropped to my knees, but this horrific, agonizing spell still held over me. The only thing I had control over was holding back my tears.

I clasped my hand into a fist and slammed it onto the ground, "Go to hell," I screeched. While I couldn't help but find irony in what I said, Lucifer didn't.

Lucifer only sighed and watched me writhing for a few seconds more, before releasing me. The largest wave of relief washed over me, except, I was still in the presence of my tormentor. I began shuffling away, and almost was able to get myself off the ground and break into a sprint. However, as I was, Lucifer got ahold of me and swung me to the ground. He pinned my shoulders to the hard, wooden floor. It felt cold on my arms, so cold that goosebumps appeared on them. I noticed Lucifer's gripe on me becoming weaker, probably because he thought I was not going to fight back after that, but it was the perfect time for me to. I took my leg and kicked him with all of my might in his stomach. He lost gripe of me and stumbled back, which allowed me to scramble to my feet. I began to make my way towards the door, pushing over everything in my path to leave the room.

"You humans really are annoying pests," I heard him grumble from behind me.

After hearing those words I was hurled into a wall. The impact left me unable to come back up, so I was left laying on the ground once again. I heard his footsteps echo throughout the room before I saw him above me. He crouched down and grasped onto my chin, yanking me from my laying position to sitting up. I attempted to retaliate against him, but he still forced my eyes to meet his dark, sickening eyes.

"I can make this little confidence thing you have going on disappear quick. Watch yourself," he paused and smirked. "You are my little bitch."

I gazed bewilderedly into his eyes. What words could follow something like that? Oh I'm the Devil's bitch. The Devil? Satan? Never-mind that, just being anyone's bitch is disgusting.

"I am not your bitch."

"You're not?" he questioned. That same, hideous, self-loving smile never left him. "How are you not? Don't you see what I did?" he further pursued. He took my head and spun it to see the wall he had indented with my body. "I have full dominion over you. The things I can make you do are so overwhelmingly vile that your little head could never conjure up what I have in store. It's just a matter of when I—"

He was ready to spit more words at me. But he was interrupted by this pure white, blinding light. It devoured the room in its radiance and a high pitched noise rang throughout. Lucifer cursed under his breath and slammed his fist into my face, which seemingly angered the noise, who began to sound off even louder that the house tremored.

Lucifer, for whatever reason, was unable to bear the phenomenon. With a huff, he vanished.

I sat there for a few seconds. My stomach churned with all that he had said. I felt my eyes begin to burn. They watered and stung, but I did not want them to spill over. Except, they did. I laid there just crying out of the intense terror that consumed me. I didn't know what was going to happen to me. And the uncertainty that devoured me made me hate myself; what will come of my interactions with Lucifer?

Yet, that light… that light was my savior. It had delivered me through so much trauma. In times of desperation I saw it and felt good, felt that all would be okay. Now it comes to me again, warding off evils for my sake. Keeping me alive to battle another day.

I knew what had to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Ich Habe Gelogen**

A few years back when I was, about fourteen, something weird was going on at my school. There were times where people would just start fighting each other. It happens with teens, of course. Their hormone-raging selves aren't capable of solving a problem in any other way. I think if everyone actually could, they would had punched their depression away. But these were no ordinary teenage fights; these fights were so gruesome. They always ended up with someone dying bloody. And when I say bloody, I mean guts flying out of the poor sucker that lost the brawl, brain parts splattered onto the floor, whatever nasty thing you could think of probably happened. My school was like a war-zone.

While this was all happening, I met these men, brothers actually, who were figuring out what was wrong. They came in as FBI, which scared whoever was not under that violent spell. Don't get me started on the amount of dealers in my school who pissed themselves thinking about if they got caught. Short answer, they didn't, but the brothers loved to intimidate my peers. The older brother was more into the pranks, while the younger would eye the scene. Honestly, for the longest time I swore the younger brother was actually the elder, since the older brother was far shorter than the younger. It was quite ironic and sometimes I would poke fun at the height difference. It never failed to make me laugh, especially how the older brother acted like such a helicopter parent to their Sasquatch of a child. The boys both wore sickening amounts of plaid but their selflessness was truly amendable; they never went a day without helping someone. And the love they had for each other was shocking. I mean everyone says that they'd die for their siblings, but who actually says that they'll move mountains to bring you back to life after you died protecting them. Yeah, no one but these brothers. They were an unusual pair, but a great pair nonetheless. Anytime you had a problem, you could rely on these boys to fix it, no matter what. Which is why I did what any sane person would do and called the Winchesters.

The phone rang for a few seconds and I grew anxious they wouldn't respond. I was about to set down my phone when I heard a frantic, "Hello?"

It took a second to remember which brother's voice that was but I realized it was Sam, despite me calling Dean.

"Hey Sam? It's been a long time, eh? Well, I hope you're okay. I have a major problem. It might be a bit outta your league though," I rambled on. Despite me not wanting to let my nerves show, they did.

"What's wrong, Lada?"

"I doubt you'll really believe me but I think I got visited by Satan himself. I don't know why I would've since he's supposed to be locked downstairs."

"About that..." Sam trailed off. "Dean and I might've set him loose."

"What?"

"I know, it's a long story. Can you meet me and Dean at the motel we're staying at? We'll explain everything there."

I agreed and allowed Sam to give me the address. I ran out of my room and got into my car. It was an old model, a '98 Grand Cherokee. Honestly, just a hunk of junk on wheels at this point. But, I found the keys from my backpack and ignited the engine. The car roared so loud that I was taken aback for a second. My car soared through the highway, driving as fast as I could to get to the boys. The Winchesters were at least 6 hours from me which honestly could had been so much worse. On the ride I could not help but think. How could Lucifer actually be treading the Earth? And if he has finally appeared what is stopping God from doing the same? What about the other archangels: Micheal, Raphael, Gabriel even? Imagine how different the world would be if they interacted with us more; imagine how better life would had been.

I stopped thinking and shook my head. This whole angel thing was a new concept to me. I continued to drive to the motel. Hours went by quicker than expected and it felt like a matter of minutes that I arrived at my destination. I fiddled with my bag to find my phone, and texted Dean.

'What room?'

'238'

The amount of speed I used to leave my car was surprising. I didn't even know I could run that fast. Once I reached their door, I knocked. I waited a few seconds before Sam opened the door to 238 and beckoned me inside. I am, of course, greeted by Dean as well, but there was another person there. I cocked my head out of curiosity.

"Who's that?" I asked, eyeing him carefully. He looked so... awkward?

"I am Castiel, an angel of the lord," he retorted.

I stared him down and shrugged. He was like emotional constipated or something. Really just a bit too emotionless for my tastes. Were all angels like this?

"It's great seeing you guys! I can't remember the last time we saw each other face to face. But let me be frank, why in the living hell Lucifer visit me last night?" I asked, becoming visibly unnerved. The weird ass angel standing there looking like a lost puppy didn't help me either.

"I don't know why he'd visit you. There was absolutely no reason for him to unless it was because you have knowledge of the Winchesters," Castel said. "You serve no real purpose to him or his plans."

"Listen here you feathery piece of shit. That was the dumbest thing anyone could say. Clearly he needed me or else he wouldn't had showed up."

Silence.

"Yeah that's what I thought," I said, triumphantly. The angel absolutely ticked me off. It was just something about him that I didn't like.

I turned to Dean, "Has any of your other friends been visited?"

"Nope, none that I know of at least."

"What?" I exclaimed, "How could I be the only one?"

"I couldn't tell you. I guess you're just lucky," Dean laughed.

"Mmm I guess I am. I mean I luckily was blessed with good looks too," I added, playing along with Dean's little comment.

"Don't get your head too big. You're not that stunning," Dean replied. I gasped and punched his arm in retaliation.

"Well, I did not come here to get bullied. I did come here to find out what Satan is doing topside?" I persisted. I was not leaving without all of my questions answered.

"Look, when Dean died he was in hell for a while," Sam paused. He took a deep breath in, as if thinking about Dean's death still caused him great pain. "To make it short he gave into the demons' temptations. They wanted him to torture souls like they did, and that's exactly what he resorted to. This caused for the first seal of the Cage, Lucifer's prison, to be broken. There were 100 seals to the Cage and since the first one was broken more could too. So, a bunch of demons were scrambling to break the other seals until..." Sam once again trailed off. His cheeks burned a deep red and his eyes were bouncing from every which way. Finally, they rested on Dean who only gave Sam a nod.

"Until Sam broke the last seal," Dean finished.

"How?"

"Demons got to him too."

I looked over at Sam who had his head buried in his hands. Despite my clear lack of height I reached for his arms.

"It'll be okay!" I smiled. I embraced the boy who had put so much pressure onto himself. He was hurting so badly. Whether it be that he was pissed he was blind to whatever demon's doings or the inevitable consequences that would result from this, he did not deserve to worry.

"Everything will be okay, Sam."

This time he pushed me off of him. The suddenness of the force made me bump into the angel. I glared daggers into his eyes and shoved him. But, I turned my attention to Sam who's eyes had turned glassy.

"You don't know how many people have died because of that son of a bitch. So many people dead because of me."

"It's not your fault. And even if you guys want to think it was, I know my Winchesters will fix it all up. We'll slam Lucifer back into that Cage and he will never hurt anyone again."

I wanted to believe in those words. Those words were uttered by some naïve child who had not understood the true evils of the world. The Winchesters are the heros that stop the monsters under our beds. They make this world safe, but at what cost? The trauma suffered by these men are indescribable. Of course, as hunters we all have seen our fair share of fucked up. However, the mental and physical torment dealt to us as hunters, to these boys specifically, were sickening. While heroes always try to save the day there comes a time when they no longer can. Where the big bad is just too bad.

Looking back, those words were true lies that a sad girl wanted to tell herself to make everything seem okay because she knew she was apart of the Winchester's world. But once you get wrapped up into their world you're done for. Because you take on their same responsibilities — protecting people from the monsters lurking in the shadows. But at what cost? You leave the life you had. Whatever happy, fun things you enjoyed are gone. Those that you loved can no longer associate with you or else they run the risk of dying too. All things good are replaced with the screams of the innocent lives that were killed because you weren't fast enough. Because you couldn't figure out what that thing was. Because you did not understand what you had gotten yourself into.

And one day, after all of this bloodshed, you lose yourself too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Alea Iacta Est**

"Where are we going now?" I cried out, growing increasingly annoyed.

"Lada relax, you know I told you we have to check up on Chuck," Sam replied, trying his best to be patient with my temper.

"Who even is Chuck?"

"He's the prophet. Come on, Lada, we went over this."

Before I could argue with Sam, the word 'prophet' began to echo through my head. It took a few seconds before I could correlate it to my encounter with Lucifer. Then, my heart fluttered. What did Sam mean by prophet? Granted I know I would've remembered if he told me that Chuck was a prophet but here we are now.

"Are you sure?" I said back, slowing down each word as if I was speaking to a foreigner.

"Lada how could he not be sure?" Dean yelled from the bathroom; his voice was muffled from the foamy, probably minty toothpaste in his mouth.

"I know Sam knows but..." I trailed off. I wasn't sure if telling them at that exact moment was appropriate but since we're in apocalypse times, who cares? "When Lucifer visited me he called me a prophet. I didn't think much of it—"

"What if that's why he came, because he thinks you have some prophet abilities?" Sam cut me off, almost in an excited way since he was the one who put the pieces together 'first.'

"But if Chuck is a prophet then why did Lucifer think I am? Isn't there only supposed to be one?" I questioned. I was about to continue but I realized I knew that without any prior research.

"There should be absolutely no other prophets. Lucifer has it wrong," a stoic voice simply put it. Sam and I turn to find Castiel standing by the front door.

"So he really can just walk in whenever he wants," I muttered.

"And even if Lucifer somehow was right, it would be impossible, since I know the name of every living prophet and you, Lada, are not one of them." Castiel continued. He came to me and stuck out his arm. As it grew closer to my face I smacked it out of the way.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I was not letting anyone, especially this… angel touch me before I knew what he wanted to do.

"I am checking for any prophet qualities you may have."

I said nothing and rolled my eyes before allowing the angel to do what he needed to. Castiel placed his palm gently onto my forehead. The cold, clammy touch made shivers run down my spine. We stood there for a few seconds, the more he left his hand on my head the more noises I began to hear. At first it was nothing of worry. Just small sounds that you'd hear on a daily basis: the creeks of an old house as you walk across the shifty floorboards, the chirping of birds on a cool spring morning, the cars honking at each other in traffic. But the noises got worse. It turned into people chattering. Of course I knew I wasn't alone, though Sam, Dean, and Castiel were not moving their lips. The voices slowly grew louder, they began shouting yet I could not understand what they were saying. Their words were twisted, something not of my own tongue. I could see Castiel grow uncomfortable; the slight grumble that escaped him said it all. His mouth contorted and accidentally portrayed some sort of problems that he was presented with. I focused on Castiel to try and forget about the voices, except they did not want me to forget them. They were screaming again, just like how they were when I saw Lucifer. Except that was not the only time I heard them. I heard them for a while; they actually began right before I met Sam and Dean, but I wrote it off as schizophrenia. I took medicine for it, yet the voices never stopped. They always came back. And they're here now, crying out to me, begging me for something that I do not have to give them.

I was lost in my thoughts. Totally and utterly, until the voices squirmed their way into my conscious. Their screams were even more horrific. But I still had no idea what they were saying. I tried my best to show I wasn't in pain but it was too difficult. My head felt as if it was going to explode and the light that shone into the room was too much for me to bare. Finally I gave in; I dropped to my knees and cried out.

"Castiel, make them stop," I pleaded. However, nothing escaped his mouth. I tried again, "Castiel please!"

I looked worriedly at Castiel who held an expression of horror on his face. Sam seemed confused and I saw Dean rush out of the bathroom.

"She said stop," Dean repeated my words to Castiel, who still continued.

"Wait," Sam whispered. He pointed something out to Dean who stood awed.

Still, I sat there in immense pain. Honestly, I was scared. I didn't understand why they couldn't free me of this pain.

"Guys..." I began, finding it harder to speak. "Please just stop," were the only words I could say before collapsing.

Before the world went dark, the voices finally became comprehensible. They were all screaming, "The die has been cast." At those moments of consciousness I thought nothing of their words, for I was struggling to not subdue to the darkness. As I was, the light appeared to me again. Except, the light made a silhouette of a person… no, an angel. Their wings, though consumed in black, were seemingly magnificent. It reached out to me, and I attempted the same.

"Danger is sweet," were the words I heard before falling into whatever sleeping trance I was put under.

When I finally woke up I was in an unfamiliar environment. The walls were a dirty green with only one window that was covered with blinds for whatever reason. I sat up and continued to surveillance the room until my eyes rested upon a person. The guy had this scruffy, little, brown beard and wore this absolutely drag robe with a white t-shirt underneath. Clearly, he was comfortable. However, I realized that I had no recollection of this man and became nervous. My eyes shifted around to see if I could find Sam or Dean, but nothing.

"Hey," I said, trying to get his attention. He jumped - startled, and ran over to me.

"Are you okay?" He asked, taking the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Yeah I'm fine. Where's Sam and Dean?"

"Oh them? They just ran out, had to go on a hunt they said. But they couldn't bring you cause, well, you were in a coma."

"Excuse me… What?" I was completely confused. It felt that just minutes ago Castiel was trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

"You were out cold for 5 days. Whatever Castiel was doing really messed you up." He replied.

"How am I not on death's door? I feel better than I normally do, honestly."

Slowly, I propelled myself to fully sit up. I swung my legs around and was able to get up with the help of the guy.

"I don't think I got your name," I said.

"Oh sorry, I'm Chuck," he answered, smiling.

Once I was standing, I tried walking. While it was plausible to do, I was struggling keeping my balance. Chuck had to help me get to the kitchen where I sat on one of the chairs.

"Chuck, huh? Sam was telling me you're a prophet. I was wondering if you could help me figure out what was wrong with me." I asked, before he could turn his attention to something else.

"Yeah. Sam and Dean were telling me about you. Said Lucifer called you a 'prophet'."

"Exactly, but you're a prophet. There can't be two at the same time, right?"

Chuck laughed, whether it was nervously or out of something funny he thought of I really don't know. But he pulled a chair in front of me and took a seat. He took a breath in, which clued me in that this explanation was either lengthy, confusing, or worse… both.

"So the simple answer is there should only be one prophet. However, Castiel saw that you were definitely a prophet too, which is odd, but doesn't make you any less of one. And, I can just feel you are too. Not sure if it's the right feeling, but I just know you are. I'm here taking a guess, but maybe the natural procession got messed up. So one of us was supposed to be a prophet, however it ended up that both of us now are."

"How would this natural procession had gotten messed up?"

"I couldn't even tell you. Maybe God did something, maybe He wanted this to happen." Chuck paused for a second, then extended his hand close to my head. "May I?"

"Knock yourself out."

Chuck pressed each of his index fingers on my temples. The progression of wonderful sounds, to gossiping between a crowd, to howling, to blood-curdling shrieks was faster. However, this time something was off. I could fully decipher their warnings, but the screaming was worse, so much worse than anything I've ever felt. Before I knew what hit me, I collapsed on the floor, reciting the same words as the voices as I was uncontrollably shaking.

Chuck leapt back in fear. His face dropped and held an expression of pure fear. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. Chuck swooped to the ground and held my trembling shoulders, which did nothing. He tried to touch my temples again however it only worsen my condition. My voice started raising all while continuing its chant. After multiple other attempts, Chuck took his hand and pressed it on my heart, where he recited someone that he seemingly had memorized. I jolted up and what could had been described as a seizure to an unknown had stopped.

"What did you do?" I asked, examining my hands in shock.

"I-" Chuck stammered, unsure of what to say, "I'm not sure. But I saw all of your past. It was scary, really. I was not expecting that."

_Shit._

"We don't have to talk about anything that doesn't relate to your whole prophet ordeal," he assured.

I smiled and nodded in agreement.

"So, from what I saw, the voices have been going on since Dean gave in. They were just nonsensical screaming and even whispers in what you thought was a foreign language until Castiel touched your forehead. 'The die has been cast...' I'm going on a limb and saying it has to do with the first seal being broke. But why do they persist? They could be referencing something in the future.

"And when Lucifer appeared to you, the screams worsened. Like they were alerting you of him. But that wasn't the first time. No… you heard it around Castiel, around me, and even some people you know. The voices getting worse near Lucifer could have something to do with your ability to sense angels and demons, which would mean that some people you're interacting with are not who they seem. I would advise you to be careful. But you shouldn't hear voices like that. It's just a feeling you get when you see them.

"And the visions you've had. I'm sorry. They are horrific, and they leave you in a state of confusion due to their vagueness. But that light you saw, I would like to think it was your archangel watching over you. As a prophet, you are protecting by one, no matter what. Which would make sense why you always see it in times of trouble. Mine has never been so attached to me though; they only come if I am in serious danger. Yours must truly have a connection with you. I would treasure that."

I starred dazed at Chuck. His rambling did make sense, especially about my guardian angel. But I could not get over the fact that he knew everything about me even though I just met him. It angered me, to my core. He had no right in knowing anything I didn't tell him.

"Just don't tell Sam and Dean about anything else you saw, okay?" I growled.

Chuck simply nodded his head. "You have my word."

"Thanks."

We sat in silence for a bit, unable to think of anything to push the conversation further.

"One last thing…" Chuck started. "Can I ask one thing about what I saw?"

I was reluctant. A look of disgust was obviously radiating from my face, but I gave in.

"Fine, what do you want to know?"

"Why did you stop believing in God?" Chuck asked. For a second he seemed as if he took a personal offense to that.

I scoffed. "You saw everything. He did nothing to help me; he just watched as I suffered. Either he didn't exist or he just doesn't care. And what would be worse to believe? Except, now I have my answer. Clearly he exists if angels actually are real. Which means he never cared, not for me, or you, or for anyone else on this Earth."

Chuck looked down. He nodded before muttered a quiet, "Thank you for you honestly."

Afterwards, Chuck and I talked about other things for a few hours. Soon enough, Sam and Dean came back. After thanking Chuck for looking over me, we left. The ride home was quiet, and whenever I tried to lighten the mood I was quickly shut down. Their faces were obviously pained with something. So I decided to let the atmosphere be somber. I would fall asleep every few hours and I'd wake up to the same scenery, a highway engulfed by a sea of black with a tiny rock in the sky that made everything a little less dark. It was nice and for once I felt content.


End file.
